


The Artist and the Angel

by Escape_From_Reality



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bookstore Owner Castiel, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dom/sub Undertones, Enemies to Lovers, Finger Sucking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Rimming, Tattoo Artist Dean, Top Castiel, kinda??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 15:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10028237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escape_From_Reality/pseuds/Escape_From_Reality
Summary: Castiel Novak owns a bookstore right next to a tattoo parlor that is owned by Dean Winchester, a handsome, flirtatious, and remarkably annoying tattoo artist.





	

Cas was going to fucking lose it if that incessant rock beat didn’t quiet down in the next five seconds. It was nothing new. His neighbor owned a small, but successful, tattoo parlor and enjoyed  - how had Dean put it? - cranking his tunes while he worked. Some days, he felt strongly that the artist was doing it just to annoy him. It was clear to Castiel that Dean found pleasure in making Cas’s life more difficult, and significantly louder, than it needed to be. 

For what had to be the millionth time, Cas rose from his seat behind his book store’s counter and marched out the door, making sure to flip the “be back soon” sign hanging there. God, he could feel his eye twitch with frustration as he opened the tinted door and entered Resurrection Ink. The thumping bass of whatever song was playing attacked his eardrums, making him wince. Sighing, he walked around the expansive counter until he was in Dean’s general line of sight. He was concentrating on what appeared to be an elaborate skull tattoo, his brow furrowed, and his tongue barely sticking out of the corner of his mouth. It took him a moment, but he saw Castiel and reached over to silence his stereo so that the only sound was the buzz of the tattoo gun. 

“Heya, Cas!” Dean greeted cheerily. “What’s up, man?” 

Cas didn’t return the man’s smile or light-hearted demeanor. “How many times have I asked you to turn your music down, Dean?”

“You’ve never asked me to do anything,” Dean chuckled, looking up for a split second before returning to his work on his client’s forearm. 

“My customers don’t like head-banging music while they’re trying to pick out a novel.” 

“Are you sure? Because I do. Led Zeppelin and The Great Gatsby make a surprisingly great combination,” he offered while wiping some blood away. The buzzing of the needle stopped as he eyed his masterpiece. Looking around, he spotted his trusty tube of ointment across the shop and rolled to it on his stool with one strong push of his legs. When he grabbed it, he rolled back, and applied it to his client’s new wound. “Look, if you really want me to turn it down, then I can.” He gave his client a reassuring smile as he began to wrap the area in plastic. “Or maybe I won’t so that you can keep coming over to see my pretty face all the time.” Now he directed a wink at Cas, making the older man huff out an annoyed breath. 

As Cas left, he grumbled about how he didn’t care one way or another because Dean was an asshole. When Cas plopped back down where he was sitting in his bookstore, his mind wandered. Not for the first time, he reflected on Dean’s attire. He had been wearing a snug, plain black t-shirt, dark-wash skinny jeans, and shoes that were a perfect combination of casual and dressy. Dean’s body, or what he had seen of it, was covered in tattoos, which had always fascinated Castiel, though he would never admit it aloud. He could tell that most of Dean’s body art had a story to it, and he hoped that one day Dean would tell him those stories. 

And those eyes…

Cas shook his head and gave a tense smile to the young girl at the counter who was ready to buy the books in her hand. 

Weeks passed without much conflict. Cas went next door periodically to chew Dean out for the volume of his music, but he would just smirk and make his flirtatious comments until Cas was forced to vacate the premises. Rarely did the tattoo artist ever make his way over to the bookstore and, when he did, it was because he needed something his younger brother Sam had requested. Today the bells atop the entryway rang to announce the arrival of said artist. Cas glanced over his shoulder as he stocked shelves and groaned.

“Another book for you brother?” he grumbled.

Dean laughed and walked up beside the man, watching him work. “Nah, today’s visit is more pleasure than business.” He wiggled his brows suggestively.

“Why can’t you just leave me to do my job in peace?” The complaint sounded like it was aimed more at God than at Dean himself, but he responded anyway. 

“Says the man who barges into my tattoo shop on a daily basis.” 

“Because your music is horrible and you’re annoying.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “C’mon now, Novak, I know you don’t mean that.” 

But he did mean it. Dean’s music grated on his ears like nails on a chalkboard and Dean was annoying, if for no other reason that he was far too beautiful.

“Whatever. I wanna find a book.” He walked over to a seemingly random shelf and plucked out a book titled The Essential Enochian Grimoire. “Looks spooky. Is it any good?” 

Cas nodded slightly. “Sure, if you have any interest in Enochian magick.” 

Dean barked out a laugh, taking the book and walking up close to Castiel again. “All you’re doing is enforcing my theory.”

“Do explain.”

“My theory that you’re actually an angel living as a regular dude.” When all he got was an unimpressed look and a raised eyebrow, he continued. “C’mon, man, you’re hot as hell. Eyes like blue flames. And you look like could pick up a grown ass man and throw him around with no problem.” 

Cas didn’t realize that with every compliment, Dean leaned in closer until their noses were almost touching.

“You’re insane,” Cas choked out, trying to cover the wavering of his voice by clearing his throat. A slight blush rose in his cheeks. What the hell? Castiel Novak did not blush. 

“Go out with me, Cas.” There was a sly confidence in his voice that wasn’t usually there. Like he knew a secret that he wasn’t supposed to know. 

The older man glanced down at Dean’s hands, still clutching the book. “Just, uh.. Just the one book then?” 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Screw the book. I want you, angel.” 

From the moment Castiel had met Dean, he had been awaiting the day he would finally just snap and lose his damn mind. Dean was handsome, mesmerizing, frustrating, and mouthy. He was a perfect storm. And here, in his bookstore, listening to the man say he wanted him - he finally lost it.

The older man surged forward and attached his hands to Dean’s hips and pressed their lips together harshly. Dean reflexively wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck tightly, dropping the book, as their mouths moved together. Cas’s hands moved down to the back of the other man’s thighs and pulled, signaling Dean to wrap his legs around Cas’s waist. Their bodies moved together naturally, as if they had been built for the moment they would come together this way. 

Cas carried Dean into the back room of the store where all the boxes of books were kept and set him down in front of one of the shelves. He spun him around, giving a short command to hold onto the shelf.

“You gonna fuck me, Cas?” Dean breathed with a smirk.

Cas sank down to his knees behind the man, tugging at his jeans. “You want me to?” Dean simply nodded as his pants were pulled down to his ankles along with his briefs. Cas smiled to himself as he uncovered swirls of brightly colored ink on the man’s hips, ass, and thighs. “So beautiful.”  A gasp was pulled from Dean’s lips as Cas parted his cheeks and dragged his wet, hot tongue over the man’s hole. 

“Oh, fuck fuck fuck fuck” the tattoo artist murmured as he was licked open. “Ohhh, please, Cas. Castiel. Feels so fucking good.”

“You never shut that little mouth of yours, do you?” Cas growled in between licks. Dean shook his head. Cas chuckled and rose to his feet and pressed two fingers to the man’s plump lips. “Get them nice and wet for me, Dean.” 

Cas moaned and palmed his cock in his dress pants when Dean sucked on his fingers with fervor, moaning and swirling his tongue around them. God, he was fucking hot. When his fingers were thoroughly soaked in spit, Cas removed them and pressed them to Dean’s puckered hole. They slipped inside fairly easily and he began slowly moving them in and out. When Dean seemed relax enough, he tried moving his fingers deeper until he felt them glide over a certain spot. The other man definitely felt it too because he sucked in a sharp breath and let out a whimper.   
“Cas…”  
Cas reached his other hand around to fist Dean’s hard cock, jacking it slowly as he moved the fingers inside of him. In a way that was totally unlike him, Dean remained silent, save for a few little gasps of the older man’s name. 

“You look so good, Dean. Taking my fingers so well,” Cas muttered, planting kissed on his neck. 

“Oh, god. I’m gonna..” 

“You gonna come on just my fingers?” He sped up the hand jerking Dean’s cock. “Do it, Dean. Cum for me.”

Dean’s head flew back and his arm came back to pull at Cas’s hair as he moaned and shot ropes of white all over the brown box in front of him. His body went limp for a moment before his breathing slowed to a normal pace and he turned around to place a sloppy kiss on Castiel’s lips.

Cas smiled  and wrapped his arms around Dean, who tucked his head into Castiel’s neck. “You tired?” A single nod. “Too tired to take my cock once we get to my apartment?” 

Dean simply scoffed. “What do I look like, Cas? Some kind of quitter?” 

When they got back to Castiel’s apartment, Dean was able to prove that he was not, in fact, a quitter. And, to Cas’s surprise and great excitement, he continued to prove so all night long.


End file.
